Stolen Seduction (14 page)

lock, but I’m not as adept at security systems as my ex.”

Her ex, the thief. Reformed thief now, Shane figured, not that it mattered much to him. Considering

how Rafe Sullivan seemed to have cleaned up his act since marrying Lisa, Shane was pretty sure he

hadn’t been the one to fly up to Chicago and help Hailey. Which left—

His jaw flexed. “Billy Sullivan.”

Her eyes slid to his again, and this time they weren’t wary, but very determined. “Whatever you do,

don’t mention it to Lisa. Or Rafe. I asked Billy for a favor and he helped because we’re friends. But

if Rafe gets wind of what Billy did, he’ll skin him alive.”

The fact she worried about either of the Sullivan men lit off a strange sort of jealousy. “So Billy was

with you at the house.”

She looked back down at her feet. “I know what you’re thinking, Maxwell. And it’s a no-go. I can’t

use Billy as an alibi. One more strike and he’s looking at doing time. Even though the house is technically a Roarke holding, it was listed as Bryan’s place of residence, and any way you look at it, we

were trespassing. Billy would have to explain how he got us in and out, and he can’t afford to do

that.”

Shane rubbed a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ, Hailey, B and E is nothing compared to a murder

rap.”

She pushed to her feet and faced him. “I know that. But I didn’t kill him. Don’t you think it’s a little

too convenient that everything’s pointing at me? Someone wants me to take the fall for this so I

back off. They stole my father’s dagger to make sure of it. I just need some time. I guarantee as

soon as I find that sixth sculpture, whoever killed Bryan will make themselves known.”

“What part of that statement is supposed to put me at ease? The fact you’re considering going along

with this insane idea or that you’re using yourself as bait for a killer?”

“That killer’s most likely a family member of mine, Maxwell. I’m not afraid of him. But I’ll tell

you this much, if that person killed my father as well, I’ll do whatever it takes to find them. Sitting

in Lake Geneva, waiting for CPD to either arrest me or bring me in for formal questioning, isn’t

getting me any closer to figuring out who’s behind all this.”

“Wait.” He held up his hand. “Who said your father was murdered? I thought he died of a heart attack.”

Unease passed over her delicate features. “I’m not so convinced anymore. I think maybe he knew

his failing health wasn’t so natural. I think that’s part of the reason he left me that letter.”

If what she was saying was true, this went way beyond the death of her cousin. It dipped into money and greed and what people will do to get what they want. And for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, he had a feeling she was at the center of it all. In ways she couldn’t even comprehend.

He had an overwhelming urge to wrap her up tight and secure, to make sure she was locked away

safe and sound from anything that could harm her. And even though he was the last person on the

planet who probably could, he wanted to be the one to watch over her.

You can’t save her.

That voice came out of nowhere to ping around in his head. What made him think this time would

be any different? But she’d come to him when she’d needed help, whether she’d meant to or not.

And that knowledge only made his need stronger. “So where are we headed?”

Her brows drew together to form a deep crease between her gorgeous eyes. “You’re not going to insist we go back so you can hand me over to the police?”

“Would you consider it if I did?”

She shook her head.

“Then there’s no point in trying, is there?”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her chest, glanced around the room. “We have to land in Nashville

to refuel. I’ll make sure there’s a car for you there—”

“Wherever you’re going, Hailey, that’s where I’m going, too.”

Surprise registered in her glittering blue eyes. “What?”

“The way I see it, I’m stuck with you now. Chen’s never going to believe any of this, not unless we

can prove it, and I’m not about to let you go out on your own to lure in a killer. Even if he is family.”

“Why do you even care?”

Why? Because even with her crazy story, he sensed she wasn’t lying. And because where she was

concerned, he couldn’t turn his back on her. Not this time.

He shrugged. “Let’s just say my instincts are telling me not to let you out of my sight. So I guess the

decision’s yours now. Either we do this together, or I haul you back to Chicago, kicking and

screaming. What’ll it be?”

Indecision brewed in her eyes, but her gaze never dropped from his. “I don’t need your help,

Maxwell.”

“No, but you’ve got it just the same. Be smart and take the hand I’m offering.”

As Hailey sat beside Shane in the front of the rental sedan, heading into the Florida Everglades, she

asked herself—for the thousandth time—how the heck she’d ended up here.

She glanced sideways at him, seated behind the wheel, studying the mangrove trees on both sides of

the road that led west out of Homestead. Dark hair fell over his forehead. A day’s worth of stubble

covered his jaw. He’d tossed his leather jacket in the backseat when they’d climbed into the rental

this afternoon, and the long-sleeved navy henley he wore stretched across wide, toned shoulders. He

looked a little on edge, a lot dangerous and sexier than any man she’d ever seen.

She tamped down the zing of arousal rushing through her—the same one she got whenever she

looked at him—and pointed toward a street sign a hundred yards ahead. “That’s it.”

He flipped on the blinker and slowed to make the turn. “Why in the hell would anyone live in the

middle of this?”

“My uncle likes seclusion.”

“This isn’t seclusion. It’s like my personal version of hell. Humidity, alligators, snakes and no

Micky D’s.”

“Please don’t tell me you eat that crap.”

“Alligators?”

“Big Macs.”

They bounced over a rather large pothole in the gravel road. “I’m a thirty-eight-year-old single guy

who doesn’t cook. What do you think I eat?”

“Didn’t you ever see that movie about the guy who ate nothing but McDonald’s for a month

straight?”

“Heard about it. Definitely changed my thinking. These days I keep it to twenty-five meals a month

minimum.”

She couldn’t help it. She smiled. With that toned body, there was no way he ate greasy burgers every day.

Don’t go there. She looked back out the front windshield so she wouldn’t. A car passed them in a

blur of dust, going the other direction.

“How do you know he’s even going to help us?” Shane asked.

The us in that question sent her stomach floating again, but she locked the feeling down and reminded herself he wasn’t here for romance. If he wanted to tag along on this, she couldn’t stop him,

but that didn’t mean they had to rehash what had or hadn’t happened. Lord knew, she didn’t want to

revisit the rejection if she didn’t have to.

“Graham’s the only person in the family I’ve ever gotten along with. He’s not money hungry like

the rest of them. When I joined the force in Key West, he was the only one who congratulated me.”

“You said he’s on the Roarke board?”

“Yeah. When my grandparents passed, they left a small inheritance to both their sons. My father

convinced Graham to invest his portion in my father’s new hotel chain. Graham never had a head

for business, and my father knew that. He’s always been more interested in nature. If he hadn’t invested the money, he’d have squandered it away.”

“He never worked for the company?”

“Not officially. But over the years he’s been a sounding board for my father. He might not know the

ins and outs of the business world, but he’s got good ideas. And my father used those ideas to expand into markets he otherwise might not have touched.”

“Does he live out here year-round?”

“No. He’s got a place in the Bahamas, too. And he likes to travel. When I saw him last week,

though, he mentioned he was staying here for a few weeks. Reconnecting with nature, I guess you’d

call it.”

“That’s not what I’d call it,” Shane mumbled as they crossed a rickety bridge over a narrow slough

and followed the road through the dense thicket of trees.

“C’mon, Maxwell,” she teased, enjoying the way he was loosening up the farther they got from

Chicago. “You’re not afraid of a few mosquitoes are you?”

“It’s not the mosquitoes I’m worried about. It’s everything else that’s hiding in that water.”

A clump of cypress trees covered in climbing ivy rose on the right side of the gravel road, interspersed with hardwoods like ash and maple. Saw palmettos grew in clumps around their bases. Tall

reeds and bushes emerged from the slough on the left, and every once in a while—if you looked

closely—you could see the movement of small birds, turtles and the alligators her uncle loved slinking through the grasses.

The winding road curved to the left another mile or two; then the trees opened to reveal a two-story

log home with a wide porch, well kept and surrounded by lush green lawns. As Shane killed the engine and glanced around, it was obvious this wasn’t what he’d expected.

“Not a shack,” she said as she popped her door and climbed from the car.

He pushed the sunglasses he’d picked up at the airport into his thick, dark hair to get a better look at

the house. “Likes to be secluded, huh?” He tucked his hands into the pockets of his loose jeans and

fell into step beside her across the lawn. “Does he maintain the grounds all by himself?”

“Are you kidding? He’s in his sixties. That’s too much work for a man in his thirties. The Everglades have a way of taking over if you’re not careful. He has a crew that takes care of the property

for him.”

“What does he do with his time?”

“He tinkers, mostly with his garden.” At his puzzled expression she added, “He’s a man who knows

a ton about everything and is an expert at nothing. He’s never been focused on any one thing for as

long as I’ve known him.”

“Great. A handyman millionaire. That explains this place.”

She smiled. “That’s why I like him.”

She knocked. And waited. When several minutes went by without so much as a sound from inside,

she cupped her hand at the glass and peered into the living room window.

“The swamp’s bringing out all kinds today. First that guy from the company with all those papers

for me to sign, now you.”

She turned at the gravelly voice and looked to the end of the porch where her uncle Graham was

standing with a bucket in one weathered hand and a fishing pole in the other. He wore frayed denim

shorts and a dirty white Key Largo T-shirt, but he looked just as familiar as he always did. Smiling,

she walked toward him, returning the hug he gave her and shifting toward Shane. “Uncle Graham,

this is Shane Maxwell. A friend of mine.”

Graham came up onto the porch and shook Shane’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Any friend of Hailey’s

is a friend of mine.” He looked her way again. “Long drive. What are you doing here? And good

God, girl, what happened to your face?”

Dammit. She’d forgotten to add extra makeup to her yellowing bruises. “Walked into a wall. Nothing big.” In an attempt to change the subject, she glanced at the bucket in his hand. “What do you

have there?”

He lifted the yellow plastic pail. “Crawdads. Hungry? I could cook us up some lunch.”

“No, thanks.” Hailey put a hand on his arm. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Shane grimace.

“We didn’t come to eat. But if you’ve got any of that famous tea of yours, I’d love a glass. There’s

something I want to talk to you about.”

A smile slinked across his wrinkled face, and he gestured for them to follow as he opened the screen

door. “Miss Carmine made some this morning before she left. Come on back.”

Graham moved through the long hallway that split the house in two. At Shane’s curious glance,

Hailey whispered, “Carmine’s his housekeeper. She’s worked for him for years. They tend to be

more than employer and employee, if you get the drift.”

Shane nodded, and a clicking sound came from his pocket as he followed her. “Crawdads?”

“A delicacy in the South. Don’t tell me you’ve never had them.”

“No, and I don’t plan to, either.”

The hall opened to a large central kitchen with white Formica counters, an oversize island and appliances Hailey had always figured had come with the house. They looked to be forty years old. She

moved to the cupboard while Shane settled at one of the bar stools surrounding the island.

Graham opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of tea. “So what do you do, Mr. Maxwell?”

“Shane. Thanks.” He took the glass Hailey handed him. “Detective.”

Graham’s eyes lit. “Oh. So you work with Hailey in Key West.”

“Not exactly—”

“Maxwell’s sister is the one who recently married Rafe,” Hailey cut in.

“Sullivan,” Graham said with just a hint of disgust. “I didn’t know there were two women out there

dumb enough to make the same mistake.”

A smirk came from Shane. Hailey ignored it and frowned at her uncle. “Very funny.”

“Oh, come on now,” Graham said as Hailey added ice to each glass and he poured tea. “He was

never good enough for you, and we both know it.”

“Good enough wasn’t the issue. But that’s not why we came out here.”

Graham nodded and, because he knew it was a topic she didn’t like to discuss, moved on to what he

probably suspected was her reason for being here. “You just get back from Wisconsin?”

Hailey took a drink of tea, set the glass down. “Yes. I did. We’re two months behind schedule, but I